The Slime Doesn't Die from Mana Transfer-Chapter 123 : A Matter Concluded

【Level: 70 → 72】
【HP: 4500 → 4800】
【MP: 1,115,280 → 1,132,500】
【Shadowmeld Lv0 → Lv7】
【Dark Magic Lv0 → Lv5】
【Stealth Lv8 → Lv8】
【Flight Lv9 → Lv9】
【Blood Manipulation Lv0 → Lv5】
In addition, there was【Spear Mastery】, but since Russell, as a slime, had no use for it, he simply assigned it to Rozelite.
Rozelite had never really objected to Russell’s habit of “eating people.”
What mattered more than eating was understanding who was friend and who was foe.
Against enemies, one must strike mercilessly—kill them outright, grind their bones to dust, and devour them completely, turning cold corpses into warm numbers.
But what about those in gray areas? Like Clayman, who had only captured Rozelite because he was following orders without knowing the truth, or Wells, who currently showed her kindness but might change his stance at any time?
Rozelite could not bring herself to kill those.
Fortunately, the Shadow Race warrior from the Northern Federation was not in that category.
Rozelite finished him cleanly, with hardly any effort.
And in truth... Rozelite felt she had grown too strong.
Her last real battle had been with the old Sword Saint. Even then, she had the upper hand from start to finish, pressing him steadily and ultimately defeating him with little surprise.
Since then, she had encountered monsters in the wild, bandits in the mountains, and even that foolish Fingus...
But none of it could be called true combat. For Rozelite, it felt more like play.
Her power now was unstoppable.
Yet, ironically, Rozelite had nothing she truly wished for—no throne she desired, no sworn enemy she needed to kill. If anything... this strength was enough simply to protect herself.
After killing Alexis, Rozelite picked up the map on the table.
Her familiarity with the palace let her recognize it immediately: a floor plan of the royal palace. But beyond that, nothing unusual. It seemed they had not yet found the true location of the Holy Sword. Perhaps its hiding place was an unsolved mystery—knowledge reserved only for the king.
“Well, I suppose that’s enough for today.”
Rozelite stretched her arms lazily.
Wells had tasked her with uncovering all the demon spies before the coronation, but their trail had gone cold here.
Layton... Alexis had mentioned the name, apparently the leader of another group of demons. They seemed prepared to act on coronation day itself, believing the ceremony was tied to the Holy Sword, and that the blade would inevitably appear.
Their exact plan remained unknown.
Still, this was valuable intel. With it, Wells could take action.
Whether or not his measures ensured the ceremony’s success...
What did that have to do with Russell?
Rozelite wanted to press the investigation further, since it had been entrusted to her by her brother.
But Russell’s advice was: This is far enough. We’ve done all we can. No need to go further.
Their prior agreement with Wells? Optional at best.
If Wells kept his word, good. If not, Russell didn’t care.
Because—
Separately, both Russell and Rozelite had weaknesses.
But together, they were invincible.
To come this far was already more than enough.
“...You’re right, Mr. Slime.”
Rozelite nodded, acknowledging his view.
“When I see my brother tomorrow, I’ll it this way. So, what do we do next, Mr. Slime?”
“Hmm...”
Russell thought for a moment. His gaze then shifted to the pile of bones in the corner.
“First, let’s head to the slums and return these remains to that Zig-whatever kid.”
…
Night deepened. Curfew was near.
Rozelite hurried to the slums. After asking around, she learned where Zig and Chris lived, and went straight there.
She knocked. Zig himself answered.
Rozelite had already removed the bones from her Astral Silver Ring, placing them in a sack. She handed it over.
At first, Zig blinked, confused.
“Bones? I don’t own a dog.”
Then realization struck. His face drained of color.
His fingers trembled. His voice cracked.
“Is this... Shira?”
Rozelite nodded.
Zig was silent for a long time. At last, he took the sack, fingers tightening.
No crying. No questions. Just a bowed head, his shoulders sagging.
“...Thanks,” he muttered, voice low, not revealing what he truly thought.
But for Russell and Rozelite, it was irrelevant.
This brief encounter had reached its end. Strange though it was, Zig was just another ordinary slum dweller. No special talent, no remarkable character. Unless fate played a trick, this would be their final meeting.
Having delivered the remains, Rozelite left.
Beneath the moonlit streets, she made it back to the inn just before curfew.
At the door, Rozelite instinctively patted her pocket. Then froze.
“My key...?”
“I gave it to Aristine,” Russell said.
“Huh? Wait—”
“Which means... she’s in my room right now?”
Rozelite opened the door—and there she was: Aristine Caroline, sitting neatly on the bed, blank-faced, calmly waiting.
“Welcome,” Aristine said softly.
“...Sorry to keep you waiting so long.”
Rozelite pointed to the doorway.
“The spy matter is over. You helped a lot, but from here on we don’t need you. You can go back now.”
“But it’s curfew.”
Aristine tilted her head.
“I can sleep on the sofa. Please let me stay. I’ll leave in the morning.”
“I see.”
Rozelite nodded in understanding.
Russell had no objection.
After all, the girl was rather cute, and sleeping on the sofa wouldn’t hurt anyone.
And so, Rozelite forcibly kicked her out of the room.
Why?
Because this was her and Mr. Slime’s private world!
Rozelite would never allow some strange girl to wedge herself between her and Mr. Slime!
“Mr. Slime’s chastity... I’ll be the one to protect it!”